


House Arrest on Tarth

by Whosdaboss4



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brienne stands up for herself, Gen, Grief, I’m sorry, Jaime is dead y’all, Marriage, No Angst, No Fluff, Pregnancy, brienne is content with herself, brienne is proud of her achievements, not cersei friendly, slightly darker Brienne character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 12:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whosdaboss4/pseuds/Whosdaboss4
Summary: Brief background - Jaime tells Daenerys WHY he killed her father and that he was not responsible for the deaths of Elia Targaryen and her children (Dany’s niece and nephew). She is also made aware Jaime helped Brienne find the Stark girls, so Daenerys is okay with Jaime.  So Daenerys agrees to allow Jaime to go to Cersei to get her to surrender, BUT he has a time limit after which Drogon will do his thing and destroy the Red Keep.   Jaime and Brienne marry in the Godswood at Winterfell right after the Long Night.  He and Brienne will house Cersei on Tarth in a lifetime house arrest sentence.  All houses (and the Queen) are okay with this, even Sansa.  Jaime has Cersei convinced to surrender until the last minute -  Cersei doing Cersei shit.  Instead of Jaime leaving her to her doom, Jaime tries to drag her out through underground of the Red Keep.  Jaime dies, Cersei doesn’t.  Brienne really wants Cersei to be executed, but she insists she and her baby be sent to Tarth as previous planned - as a last wish to Jaime.  This was written kind of quickly - please forgive any errors.





	House Arrest on Tarth

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot story. I don’t go into what happens in the future. I needed a catharsis. 🙂

Brienne stands at attention staring at the ship. While waiting for her cargo, her mind drifts. Standing for any length of time is getting harder and harder these days. Her back aches constantly. Her feet barely fit into her boots. Her tits are heavy and so sore. And that’s been the biggest challenge. She’s never been busty to begin with. She’s always accidentally hitting them on something or another. When she considers the state that her breasts are in, she thinks of him. He loved her tiny breasts. She wonders what he would think of them now. So swollen and full of milk. She sighs. There will be other times to remember the feel of his hands and mouth on her. There will be other times to remember the way he would grin wantonly before ravishing her. She has to be sharp and on guard today - of all days. Just when her memories fade back into the recesses of her mind, her cargo disembarks. Prickly as ever, Cersei clutches a bundle close to her chest while snatching away from a sailor who was trying to help her down the gangplank. Brienne sighs again. 

“Come now, Lady Baratheon. The young man is only being polite. It’s the Tarth way,” Brienne calls out to her. 

Cersei’s eyes focus on Brienne’s tall form at the end of the dock. Then just as she did when they met years ago, at Joffrey’s wedding, she looked Brienne over. Then when Cersei’s eyes travel back up and land on Brienne’s midsection, her eyes widened wildly. Only for a second. And then, she sneers. Her sneer and squinted eyes shoot poisonous daggers at Brienne. Brienne tilts her head and smirks at her. 

Cersei slowly walks toward Brienne. She holds her head high as if she were still a Queen. Brienne notices how graceful Cersei is - who is not even watching her step on the unfamiliar surface. All the while holding her child close to her. All while killing Brienne with her stare. As Cersei gets closer, she notices other things. Cersei’s golden blonde mane has a healthy dose of gray in it. Like his. She also has crinkling around her eyes and not just because of the squinting. Like him. She’s still beautiful, but not so young anymore. Like him. 

She stops a few feet in front of Brienne. Still sneering. Still squinting. Ah, so maybe her sight is going too. Of course, she would never admit that to herself. 

“I’m Lady Lannister,” Cersei says with a growl. She thinks she’s still a lioness.

Brienne snorts. “No, you are widow to Robert Baratheon. So YOU are Lady Baratheon. And that is how you will be addressed,” Brienne retorts. “I am Lady Lannister and you would do well to remember that,” Brienne says calmly with a dangerous smile. _ Ah, sweetling, you would be so proud of me standing up to her,_ she says to her husband in her mind. 

“I don’t believe that rubbish for a moment. Why would he marry an ugly cow like you? And that babe in your unnatural body isn’t his either. You can fool the Imp, you can fool that little whore who calls herself Queen, but you can’t fool me,” Cersei spat. 

“I don’t give a fuck what you believe, Lady Baratheon. Not a wit. But Lord Hand was there in the Godswood and witnessed. As was the Queen. ‘Tis not a rumor or a lie. I know that’s the only currency you deal in - foul rumors and lies. I know you can’t fathom truth and love…” Brienne speaks plainly to her.

A big, strong woman reaches both them on the dock. She’s not as tall as Brienne, but sturdier if that is even possible. The woman gives Cersei a look of blood curdling hatred. Wordlessly, she grabs the swaddled babe away from Cersei with the ease of taking a toy away from a child. Cersei struggles as much as she can with the woman. Cersei’s sneer is replaced by a look of pure terror. 

The woman turns on her heel and begins walking away. Brienne and Cersei can hear the woman cooing gently to the babe, “Well, aren’t you a pretty one…”

Cersei makes to follow the woman, but Brienne roughly places her hands on either of Cersei’s shoulders. “Lady Baratheon, that’s Thea. She’ll be both babes’ nursemaid. She’s taking her to be looked over by a Maester. No one will hurt her.”

Cersei is still looking after Thea. She looks lost. Then she lets out a huge breath. Brienne thinks about how small and sad she look now. Then Brienne turns to her guards.

“Sers, please escort Lady Baratheon to her chambers to let her refresh herself, eat and nurse her babe if she likes. One guard inside and one without. After Thea comes to put the babe to bed, bring Lady Baratheon to my solar,” Brienne commands.

“No, I am tired. I require…” Cersei counter-commands.

“You command NO one here. You will be brought to me so we can confirm YOU understand the rules of this...this arrangement,” Brienne says.

The guards stand stoically on either side of Cersei and gently push her toward the castle. Brienne watches. Cersei’s shoulders slump. Her right foot drags just a bit. Brienne reminds herself that an animal is the most dangerous when it’s scared and when it’s cornered. 

***********

Brienne has just finished her meal of roasted carrots and rabbit. The babe loves carrots and kicks wildly in her stomach. 

“Yes, my love. I know you love them. I just hope you’ll eat them as you get older,” Brienne muses as she strokes her stomach. 

Brienne loves talking to the child. It calms her; but of course, it also makes her melancholy. It makes her think of Jaime and all the things he’s missing. Neither she nor Jaime knew she was with child when he left for King’s Landing. Then she thinks about what their child will miss - never seeing the face of its father, hearing his laugh or feeling his embrace. Those realizations make Brienne miss Jaime almost to the point of madness. Brienne firmly rubs her forehead and wills the grief away. Afterwards, she can talk to him and cry. Brienne fights off tears when there is a pounding at the door.

Brienne wipes at her eyes with a napkin and squares her shoulders. “Enter!” she bellows. _Now is not the time for weakness,_ she says to herself.

The door creaks open and Cersei is gently thrust into the room. After the brief rest, she is starting to look like herself again. All arrogance and anger. Cersei quickly takes in her surroundings. Brienne can tell Cersei is taking mental notes of things she can use to insult. It’s as natural to Cersei as breathing. She takes in the furniture and then the tapestries and then the view out the window which faces the Narrow Sea toward Westeros. Still staring out the window, Cersei strolls to it. Brienne notices she’s still limping lightly with the right leg. Tyrion’s raven said she was largely unharmed in the collapse of the Red Keep. _ So, my husband is dead and Cersei lives - with only a limp. Oh the Gods are cruel!_, Brienne bitterly thinks. Cersei reaches the window continuing to stare out. 

“It’s a long way down, if you’re having any thoughts...” Brienne says blithely.

“I was thinking... it is a lovely view. Is that Storm’s End in the distance?” Cersei asks.

“You know it is,” Brienne briskly answers. 

Cersei turns and looks at the dining table where Brienne is sitting. She takes notes of the meal that was just finished. 

“...But it’s no Casterly Rock. The Sunset Sea is breathtaking. The cliffs are magnificent. Here, it looks like you are docking up to the beach near Flea Bottom. In all your travels, did Jaime ever take you to the Rock?” Cersei asks through a mask of civility.

“You know he didn’t,” Brienne answers.

“Ah, the _Lady_ of the Rock having never step foot on it…” Cersei states sadly.

“And the Lord and his brother never wanting it. I wondered why, for all its supposed beauty….At Winterfell, they discussed at length who they could give the cursed thing to. The birthright being thrown away like a diseased whore. Speaking of which, sit down,” Brienne gestures to a chair across from Brienne. Cersei glares and goes to sit in the chair at the head of the table. 

“No, ma’am. Sit in the chair I assigned you. Across from me,” Brienne commands coldly.

Cersei rises from the chair gracefully like a sea goddess rising from the waves. She obeys, but does it slowly and resentfully. Her eyes never leaving Brienne’s. 

“Thank you,” Brienne concedes.

“Why am I here?” Cersei blurts out. 

“Here in my solar or here on Tarth?” Brienne asks while knowing the answer.

“HERE! On this bloody backwater of an island,” Cersei seethes. “You ARE a stupid cow…” she mutters. 

“Your child...If it weren’t for her, you would already be dead. And all the better for the world…”, Brienne said firmly.

“Your bruiser of a nursemaid has OUR child now. So why don’t you just kill me, Brienne of Tarth?” Cersei asks venomously. 

“Three things. One, as I’ve said, it’s Lady Lannister or Ser Brienne. Take your pick, but you WILL address me correctly and properly. Two, if you really wanted to die, you’ve had plenty of opportunities to take matters in your own hands. Joanna still would be safe. Tyrion would have insured that. But let’s go further back than that, shall we.. If you really wanted to die, you both would have died with my husband instead cowering in Balerion’s skull, while my Jaime…” Brienne took a deep breath. She couldn’t lose control. Cersei just glares unconcerned about all it. “Three, who is the “our” in “our child”? You can’t mean you and Jaime…” 

“Yes, Joanna is OURS - mine and Jaime’s….” Cersei says. Her lips curl into a ferocious grin. 

“But do you really know whose she is? Euron Greyjoy or maybe some poor, stupid soul you lured into your web. He knew you were never faithful”, Brienne says leaning toward Cersei conspiratorially. “On the other hand, you are a widowed, grown women free to do what you will…” Brienne says calmly as possible while shrugging her shoulders.

Cersei doesn’t expect that. Her eyes narrow. 

“Speaking of luring poor, STUPID souls...when is that creature due to make its appearance?” Cersei asks while pointing to Brienne’s large stomach. 

“You will not refer to OUR child as a creature…” Brienne says. She is beginning to anger now.

“Why dear, what else could YOUR child be because…” Cersei taunts.

“Because it’s mother is ugly? Yes, I’m ugly. That’s okay. Jaime was most certainly okay with it. But tell me this, Cersei, for all your _beauty_, what good has it done you?” Brienne pauses and sits back for effect.

“You wanted Prince Rhaegar Targaryen; but for all your beauty, YOU couldn’t have him. Then you married King Robert; but for all your beauty, he still pined over another... Lyanna Stark. The same women that Prince Rhaegar left his wife for and loved, yes? A woman who for all points and purposes, was more like...more like me,” Brienne pauses again and tents her fingers. She wants her words to sink in. 

“Not only that, your beauty and grace didn’t prevent King Robert, your husband, from siring bastards all over King’s Landing. I know Lords sire bastards, but that had to have been embarrassing and hurtful to your pride. He didn’t even attempt to be careful or considerate of you,” Brienne finishes while shaking her head in mock sympathy. She has none for this woman.

Cersei’s eyes are slits at this point. Her chest heaves in anger. 

“Oh, you think you know soooo much you little…” Cersei stops and smirks while she looked over Brienne’s hulking form. “...no, I doubt you were ever little. How long were you fucking my brother? Three months at most. What do you really know of men? Of marriage? Of life?”

“I know enough. I know my life may have been easier if I were more like you. Then...I wonder what would my life be like now? Sold off to some Knight or Lord when I was barely a woman. Bored and miserable...No, I have had a great life, a purpose besides just what I have between my legs. I am the first female knight in our history...THE FIRST. I have friends who respect me and treat me with dignity despite my ugliness. And on top of all that, I found passion and love despite my ugliness. I got to be a wife and I will get to be a mother. So, goodsister, I am okay with being ugly. Because what I do know is, beauty doesn’t determine worth. It doesn’t guarantee you’ll be loved. It doesn’t guarantee you’ll have peace of mind. It sure as Seven Hells doesn’t guarantee happiness,” Brienne says quietly looking deeply into Cersei’s eyes. 

“So OUR child will be okay regardless of beauty or lack thereof and it will be loved. Speaking of which, first let’s address Joanna…” Brienne continues.

Cersei lips twist and she sneers. “What of Joanna?”

“Her name. Tyrion said you insisted she be surnamed Lannister. That’s impossible…” Brienne responds.

“It’s not your decision…” Cersei says while grinding her teeth.

“Queen Daenerys says differently. You were unmarried when you birthed her and she will grow up here in the Stormlands, so…” Brienne continues further without a beat.

“You bitch...you wouldn’t…” Cersei spat. Her voice is low and grumbling. 

“...she will be surnamed Storm. Joanna Storm. She will be addressed as Lady Joanna, so there will be minimal distinction between her and her cousin in that regard. I grant her the title of Lady out of respect to her uncles…” Brienne continues. 

“You would not dare...” Cersei interrupts. 

“... and the child being blameless,” Brienne finishes. Brienne leans back and crosses her arms over her aching breasts.

Brienne makes her face expressionless when she says the next part, “I wouldn’t dare? I’ve done it. It’s done.”

Cersei shudders with rage. Then she literally spit at Brienne. Her saliva lands on Brienne’s cheek. Brienne barely flinches. She lifts her napkin and wipes her face. Then Brienne reaches across the table and slaps Cersei’s face hard with her right hand. Her sword hand. The force knocks Cersei out of the chair and onto the floor. Brienne waits a beat.

“Get off the floor and sit down. We are not finished,” Brienne say coldly. 

Cersei shakily climbs back onto the chair. She straightens herself up. Her lips are split with blood dripping down her chin onto her dress. Brienne tosses her the napkin. 

“You’re bleeding, wipe your face,” Brienne commands her. Cersei does. 

“Now, if you disrespect me again, or my father, or my child, or your child for that matter... it won’t be good for you,” Brienne says frankly.

Cersei moves her mouth, as if to speak. Brienne holds up her hand.

“I’m not done. If you are rude or mean or harm our servants, it will not be good for you. You time here will not be spent sitting around on your arse thinking up intrigues. You will find something useful to do and you will do it”, Brienne says.

Cersei quietly huffs. Brienne smirks at her.

“Did you think you were saved just to allow you to live like you did in King’s Landing? Jaime wanted you saved, but never ever to have any power again. He hoped you would able to atone as he did, so much so that those who once hated him grew to respect him to the degree that they agreed to this arrangement. But what they didn’t count on was his death. So this arrangement is now tenuous at best. It hangs at the discretion of the Queen, her Lord Hand; both who defer to my final judgement. Personally, I don’t think you have it in you to atone. But we have time to find out, don’t we?” Brienne states.

“And when...sorry, if you fail to follow any of the rules of your confinement by attempting any plots to regain power; the dragons and the wolves and the stag...and the lion will come for you and we will have our justice”, Brienne said.

Cersei looks frightened. Actually frightened, but she still spoke boldly. 

“You mean vengeance…”, she says.

“It’ll all be the same to you. Doesn’t matter what it’s called”, Brienne retorts.

Brienne calls out to the guards. They swiftly come into the solar.

“Take Lady Baratheon back to her chamber. Two guards outside. She cannot have wine or ale. She cannot be given food until morning. Lady Joanna will be attended to by the wet nurse until morn, so there’s no need for Thea to attend to her with the child. Everything she needs is in her chamber. Thank you, Sers!” Brienne finishes with a curt nod at her men.

Cersei is still sitting and staring at Brienne. Her expression is a mixture of disbelief and anger. 

Brienne stares at Cersei coolly, “You are dismissed.” With that the guards stand directly behind Cersei. She stands and then straightens her back. She leaves the room with the guards close behind. After the door is closed, Brienne lets out a huge breath. 

She thinks, _Jaime, my love, I’m doing this for you and you only. But I don’t think it will work. I’m sorry in advance._ She sighs. Then leans back into her chair, rubs her belly tenderly and talks to her child about its father.


End file.
